


Memories

by MerMagicAnaLily



Series: AM Adulthood [3]
Category: Andi Mack (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Aged Up, Child Abuse, F/M, PTSD, conversion therapy, trans!marty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 06:35:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20887703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MerMagicAnaLily/pseuds/MerMagicAnaLily
Summary: Marty woke up in a cold sweat, sitting up in his bed. His breathing was fast, but he closed his eyes and started breathing. In for four, hold for four, out for seven. In for four, hold for four, out for seven. In for four-“Babe?” Buffy sat up slightly, looking at him through sleepy eyes. “Are you okay?”“Yeah...fine...don’t worry,” he leaned over and kissed her head. “Go back to sleep.” He got out of bed and went to the bathroom and started washing his face. He looked at himself in the mirror and took a deep breath, closing his eyes.Dreams and memories return to Marty, ones he hadn’t had since he was sixteen.





	Memories

**Author's Note:**

> Read trigger warnings in the tags.

Marty woke up in a cold sweat, sitting up in his bed. His breathing was fast, but he closed his eyes and started breathing.  _ In for four, hold for four, out for seven. In for four, hold for four, out for seven. In for four- _

“Babe?” Buffy sat up slightly, looking at him through sleepy eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah...fine...don’t worry,” he leaned over and kissed her head. “Go back to sleep.” He got out of bed and went to the bathroom and started washing his face. He looked at himself in the mirror and took a deep breath, closing his eyes.

* * *

_ Ten year old Marty looked out the window of the car, seeing all the buildings pass by. Every time he tried to open his mouth to ask something to his parents in the front seat, they quickly shut him down, staring straight ahead. He had no idea where he was going, and what was going to happen.  _

_ Just a few days ago, they caught him changing in the bathroom of the convenience store between home and school. He was taking off the dress he was forced to leave the house in and putting on a baggy shirt and shorts, and ruffling his “cute” pixie cut into a more boy-ish style. His father was the one who walked in and saw him. He didn’t say a word to Marty, and just walked away. That day, Marty tried to stay at school as long as possible, terrified of going home. _

_ Now, he was in the car, neither of his parents talking to him during that time other than necessary words for day to day life, such as asking to pass the salt at dinner, and telling him to get into the car that morning. They picked out a dress for him that morning, and he saw all pants, shorts, and T-shirt’s he owned peeking out of the lid of his garbage can.  _

_ “Maria Renata Sousa, presta atenção!” His mother called out, and he snapped, looking at her.  _

_ “Sim mãe?” _

_ “We're going to leave you here for a few weeks,” she said. “This camp...they said they’re going to help you. Understood?” _

_ Help him? What could they possibly help him with? _

_ “Entendeu Maria?”  _

_ Marty gulped, hating that name. He wanted to be called Martin, well really Marty, but his parents would never do that. “Sim mãe…” _

* * *

Marty went downstairs and looked through the fridge, settling on making himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a glass of orange juice. He looked around his home. *His home.* He had to remind himself of that on a near-daily basis. He was an adult now, twenty-two years old and living with his girlfriend in a small little townhouse.

His life was perfect. 

He shouldn’t complain.

He should just get over it.

It was over twelves years ago.

Just get over it.

Just get over it.

Just get over it!

* * *

_ Marty looked around at all the other kids at the camp; boys wearing blue, girls wearing pink, and he was forced into a pink shirt with the words “Camp Straight and Narrow” emblazoned on the front. He didn’t know why, but those words felt like they were burning into his skin, like he would take off his shirt and see red welts taking the shape of those words.  _

_ He was led into a cabin with some girls, all of them looking awkward and shuffling their feet. And adult had set up her bed in the middle of the room while everyone else unpacked, not looking at each other, one of the girls even starting to cry.  _

_ At exactly 11:00 a.m., they were all herded into the auditorium that was set up, the camp equally divided among pink and blue lines, with the adults only wearing darker versions of those colors. The only one not wearing that color was the priest onstage. He was wearing black and white instead. _

_ “Welcome children! If you’re here, that means one thing, and one thing only. You are confused.” Marty looked around, starting to get a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. “You are all confused, perhaps in different ways.  _

_ “Maybe some of you endured something in your past that makes you believe you’re incapable of loving or being loved. Perhaps some of you think you can only find a romantic love with someone of the same gender...that’s the most common reason,” he sighed sadly, like he had just heard someone he loved tell him about their dead puppy. “And some too, some believe that God made a mistake and put them in the wrong body.”  _

_ Marty felt a chill go down his spine. He wasn’t confused...he wasn’t. He just wasn’t a girl. He knew that, he knew that more than anything… _

_ “God does not make mistakes, children, but we humans do. All we can do is look up and beg him to remove these vile thoughts from your head before they cause any more damage in you. While you are here, we will all pray together and learn valuable skills. The boys will learn how to make camps, how to woodwork, and play some sports. The ladies will learn valuable homemaking skills, such as cleaning, cooking, sewing, and a good handful of crafts.”  _

_ Marty tried to swallow the bile coming up his throat and pressed the fabric of the skirt between his legs. From his angle, they could pass as shorts...right? Maybe he could show them he’s not confused, that he is a boy… _

_ “Now, please join us in the Lord’s Prayer before we break for lunch.” _

* * *

Marty didn’t even notice that he knocked over the glass of orange juice until he felt some drip on his leg. He cursed and jumped back a little, taking off his shirt and using it to mop it up. He cleaned put the glass in the sink and made his way to the bathroom. He dropped the shirt in the hamper and then caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. 

The two scars on his chest were healing really well, but there was still a little light white line there. He smiled a little when he saw it, and when he saw the date circled on the calendar for two months from now: bottom surgery, something he dreamed about for years but he and Buffy saved for together and were able to finally pay it off. He was finally allowed to be what he believed to be his authentic self…

His real self…

The man he wished he was…

The delusion…

The reality…

The confusion…

The confirmation…

* * *

_ “Stop it! Stop it! Stop!!!” _

_ “It won’t stop until you take the first step!” The counselor said, stopping the hose for a bit. Marty gasped and spat out some water, thankful that at the very least, his tears were hidden by the water. “What’s your name?” _

_ “Martin!” he was sprayed again, the cold water hitting his skin with force. The counselor stopped again. Stephanie...god he hated Stephanie. Stephanie could go die in a hole painfully.  _

_ “What’s your name?” _

_ “Martin!” He squeezed his eyes shut as he was sprayed by the hose again. _

_ “What’s your name?” _

_ “Go rot in hell!” That time the water hit his face straight on. “Stop it!” _

_ “Not until you try to cooperate!” She said. “What’s your name?” Marty winced, closing his eyes hard. He didn’t want to do it, he didn’t want to… “What’s your name?!” _

_ “Maria…” he said quietly, hating the way it rolled off his tongue.  _

_ “Are you a boy or a girl?”  _

_ “Fuck you Stephanie!” He looked away as he was sprayed again. “I’m not a fucking cat!” _

_ “Watch your language,” she warned. “Are you a boy or a girl?” _

_ He sighed, and mumbled out the answer he knew she wanted to hear quietly.  _

_ She smirked in triumph. “Cursing isn’t very ladylike Maria. Now go change. Your shirt is quite revealing.” _

_ “Whose fault is that?” He mumbled. She sprayed him again as he ran away. _

* * *

“Stop...stop...stop…” Marty stumbled back and knocked over the shelf behind him, sending the cup and ceramic soap dish onto the floor and shattering into pieces. “No..no...no…” his vision was blurry and the room was spinning. 

Was the air leaving the room? It had to be, it had to be leaving the room…

* * *

_ “You must repent! Beg god for forgiveness!” It was the daily prayer in the auditorium and the priest was screaming into the microphone that was already dialed up to the loudest setting. “If you do not repent! You will be cast into hell! Your families will be sullied by your dirty, sinful thoughts!”  _

_ Marty tried to sink into his seat. He wasn’t a girl...he wasn’t a girl...he wasn’t a girl… _

_ “You spit in God’s glory when you try to change yourself from his grand design!” He continued. “Beg for his forgiveness now! Then you can come home! Come home to us! Come home to your families! And later, come home to God!” _

_ All these people were telling Marty that he was wrong, that there was something wrong with him...was it really all of them who were wrong? It couldn’t just be him feeling that way, right? Not many little girls woke up as little boys, or little boys woke up as little girls...how did he even really know he was a boy…? _

_ No! No! He was a boy! He knew he was a boy! He’s a boy!  _

_ Boy!  _

_ Boy! _

* * *

“Marty!” He registered where he was...there was white tile underneath him, he was sitting on the floor, his back was against the wall, and he was in the bathroom. Buffy was on her knees in front of him. “Marty...are you okay?”

He sniffed, wiping his eyes. When did he cry? “Buff?”

“I’m here,” she said calmly. “I’m right here.” She took his hands and pulled his face up to look at her. “I’m always here.” She brought his hand to her chest, letting him feel her calm heartbeats, and led him through breathing exercises to steady his breath and kept her eyes on him, scanning him to make sure he was okay. 

His blood finally stopped pumping in his ears and he was able to inhale and exhale fully and without coughing. “I...I’m sorry I broke everything.”

“Marty, I don’t care about that,” she said. “I care about you,” she touched his face. “Here, go to bed, and I’ll just pick up the sharp pieces before I go back too.”

He nodded and walked out and into the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed and waiting for Buffy. 

She came in a few minutes later and sat down next to him, taking his hand and lacing their fingers together. “Are you okay?” 

He started to nod, but halfway through, he changed his mind and shook his head no instead. 

“Do you want to talk about it? You don’t have to if you’re not ready to.”

Marty took a deep breath and squeezed her hand. “No...I should talk about it...I should talk to someone about it at least. It’s just...it’s been a while.”

“A while since what?”

“Since...since I had the dreams…”

* * *

_ It was his fourth mandatory prayer circle that day, and Marty knew what to do by now. Pretend. Just pretend. Pretend to be who they want you to be. It’s not you..it’s not you...it’s not you… _

_ “What’s your name?” _

_ “My name is Maria,” he said slowly, trying to hide the anger and pain from his voice. The counselors nodded approvingly. “Are you a boy, or a girl?” _

_ Another deep breath. “I’m a girl…” I’m a boy. “I’m a girl like I was born.” I was born wrong! I’m a boy! A boy! A boy! _

_ “Very good Maria! Do you like boys, or girls?”  _

_ Girls, girls, girls! He wanted to scream it from the top of his lungs. He’s a boy who liked girls! “I like...boys…” he said slowly and deliberately.  _

_ “Very good! Snaps for Maria! God loves you now…” _

_ “And..and I love him…” he said slowly. He wanted to go home, he had to go home, he needed to go home, but first, he needed to hold back his tears. He could cry in bed, that’s what pillows were for. The pillows were for his tears.  _

_ If he was a girl, he could go home.  _

_ If he was a girl, his parents would accept him.  _

_ If he was a girl, his parents would love him.  _

_ Só mais um pouquinho...mais um pouquinho…aguenta Martin, aguenta. Respira, aguenta respira. Vou aguentar, vou ser forte...I will be strong...I will endure...respira...breathe. _

_ “I’m so glad I’m a girl…” _

* * *

His hand was tight, holding Buffy’s as he told her, and he didn’t look up at her. “I pretended until I went to Jefferson,” he said. “I stayed in the closet for two more years until I decided to pay some online hacker to change all my recorded to say Marty behind my parents backs...that only lasted half a year...then I was homeless for a bit, staying at a youth shelter off the grid for two weeks until Amber found me eating out of the trash at The Spoon. She gave me a hot meal, then called her mom and I lived with the Kippens until they officially adopted me...and that happened after the party and before we met again,” he said. “I wasn’t in school that entire time.”

“Marty…” she sighed, and hugged him. “I knew about you getting adopted and your parents kicking you out,” she said. “But...why didn’t you ever tell me? Conversion therapy?”

“I honestly try not to think about it…” he said. “I’ve been pretty successful. I haven’t had a dream like that since I was sixteen. I thought I was over it.”

“Did you ever try and get help?” She asked. 

“I...I didn’t have money for a professional, and I didn’t want to burden the Kippens...and I didn’t feel comfortable talking to either of Cyrus’s parents.”

“We have the resources now,” she said. “We can get someone to help you talk about your past.”

He sighed and looked down, before looking at her. “You’re too good for me, Slayer,” he said softly. 

“I know,” she smiled softly, kissing his cheek. “But you’re amazing too.” 

He smiled and kissed her gently. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she said. “My big strong man,” she flirted. 

“And you’re my even stronger beautiful woman,” he flirted back and she laughed. 

“And don’t you forget it.” She pulled him back in bed under the covers, and curled up against him. Marty smiled and closed his eyes before whispering to himself.

”My name is Martin Rodrigo Sousa-Kippen...and nobody can ever change that.”


End file.
